The Sword is Mightier than the Pen
by 97reddog
Summary: A glimpse into a memory from Cato's childhood. Written for Caeser's Palace Prompt: Sword


**Disclaimer: I definitely do not own the Hunger Games.**

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Breathing heavily, a young Cato looked up at his father with tired, pleading eyes, "Can't we stop for a little while?"

A scoff came in reply, and was soon followed by, "Do you think that you will get a chance to rest when your fighting in the Games? The answer is no. You have to learn how to fight for extended periods of time, or else, you're dead before you know it. Do you understand Cato?" His voice was seeping with anger and fustration as it normally was when he was met with any objection.

Cato was ready to retort, but thought better of it when the anger in his father's voice registered, and instead just nodded his head softly. Then mustering up what little strength he had left, Cato straightened out and a look of determination spread across his face.

Meanwhile his father had watched the change that had come over his son. Seeing the determination set sternly on Cato's face, softened his father's heart and he showed the first bit of mercy that had come from him all afternoon. "Take a five minute break. I'll be right back."

Cato looked up in disbelief, not sure if he heard his father correctly but it was confirmed that his ears were working properly when he saw his father walking out of the training room.

As soon as the door closed behind his father, Cato slumped down to the floor in a tired heap. The cool floor tiles felt heavenly on his overheated skin, and his breath was just returning to normal when he heard the door swing open. Before he could scramble up off of the floor, Cato heard his father who sounded suprisingly calm after finding his son lying down on the floor, say, "Get off the floor and come sit over here, Cato."

As quickly as he could, Cato followed his father's commands, and was presently seated beside his father who was holding a long wooden case. Cato was studying the box intently when his father spoke up. "Do you know what's in this case Cato?"

A shake of the head was all Cato could give as a response.

His father opened the lid of the case slowly to reveal a simply made, yet beautiful sword laying within. "I had this made specifically for you, and I think you're finally ready to use it."

Cato was completely mesmerized by the unexpected gift from his father. The only swords he had ever seen before were the wooden ones he had only used occasionally during training, and this was different. The steel blade reflected the light in splendid ways and immediately caught Cato's eyes. As he looked over the sword in all its magnificence, he noticed that the letter "C" was engraved into the hilt, and suddenly the realization that this sword was his, caught up to Cato.

Quickly looking up, Cato met his father's eyes and asked cautiously, "Is it really mine?" When his father nodded in confirmation, a small smile formed on Cato's face. "Thank you." He barely whispered, almost too surprised to speak.

His father just shook his head. "Don't thank me, it was about time you started to use a real sword." After saying this, he carefully lifted the sword out of the case and handed it over to his son.

Cato had not been prepared for the sword's weight, causing him to almost drop it. It took several minutes for him to become comfortable with the weight of the sword, but when he did, his father began to speak.

"You've showed a lot of potential when you've practiced with the wooden swords before, and I think it could be your most powerful weapon if we focused your training mostly on it. If you knew how to use a sword properly, I'm sure nothing could stop you."

Nodding slowly, Cato listened attentively to what his father said, taking every word to heart. He would learn to be the very best at sword fighting, and then nothing could stand in his way. When he volunteered for the Games, he would be sure to win.

Cato's father looked at his son, then spoke up again. "One last thing Cato, you may have heard the saying that the pen is mightier than the sword. Well, I want you to know that saying is wrong. Things that are written down may last a long time, but they are written about things achieved with the sword. If you control a sword, you have the power to cause tremendous changes, you have the power to be remembered. Just remember, Cato, that the sword is actually mightier than the pen."

As his father stood, the short sentimental moment ended, and they went back to the vigorous training session they had paused earlier, this time though, Cato was more determined than ever to make his father proud.

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As Cato gazed over the array of weapons stocked inside the Cornucopia, his eyes landed on a simple sword toward the back. It seemed rather out of place surrounded by the expensive looking weapons, but something about it seemed to draw Cato near.

When he reached the sword he slowly took it in his hands, and ran his finger along the blade, discovering that it was perfectly sharp. Something about the sword seemed familiar, and after he stared at it for a moment, a certain memory flashed through his mind, one that he hadn't recalled in years. The memory was of the time his father had given him his first sword.

It was almost an exact replica of that very sword his father had given him, of course it was slightly larger, but that was almost the only difference. Cato even looked over the hilt to make sure there was no "C" engraved into it.

He continued to stare at the sword and the words his father said to him that afternoon so long ago, filtered through his brain. It was that day that Cato became determined to be a victor of the Hunger Games. He had eventually forgotten about that day, but now with the realization that he could fulfill his goal, the memory came back.

Standing there with a sword in his hand, Cato felt more powerful than at any other time, and he knew that if he didn't win the Games, then he wouldn't go down without a fight, and that he would do something that he would be remembered for. Afterall, the sword is mightier than the pen.

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**A/N: I was going through the Caeser Palace's Prompts, and when I saw the sword prompt, Cato immediately popped into my head. I wanted to write about Cato's childhood and why he was the way he was in the Hunger Games. I'm not sure I really achieved what I wanted to, but I tried. I really appreciate constructive criticism. Thanks for reading, and please review.**


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